


we live in consequence

by jaysflight



Category: Doctor Sleep - Fandom, Stephen King - Fandom, The Shining
Genre: Angst, Ghosts, Internal Monologue, Missing Scene, Other, Possession, look i just rly wanted to write out this scene lmao, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaysflight/pseuds/jaysflight
Summary: —Dan Torrance’s act of heroism doesn’t come without consequence.- X -Written version of a scene, and also of a scene we don’t see, from the movie Doctor Sleep (The Shining’s sequel).—
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	we live in consequence

**Author's Note:**

> First off: SPOILERS FOR DOCTOR SLEEP (THE MOVIE)
> 
> —
> 
> Heyo! I watched Doctor Sleep a bit less than a week ago, and to put it bluntly, it snatched my wig. I’ve read the book since then, and I’ve formed my opinions about both pieces of media, but I’m absolutely certain about one thing - they’re both amazing, holy shit?? I love Dan and Abra a whole bunch, I live for their relationship, and Dan’s death at the end of the movie made me so damn sad. It was executed amazingly, though, I won’t lie - the movie’s last act, when they’re at the Hotel, was so cool, and I loved it. But I’m a sucker for the happy ending the book gave us :D
> 
> Anyway, the movie stuck with me after watching it, so I ended up writing for it. I haven’t had the inspiration to write in ages, so I’m super thankful to it for sparking my motivation! I might write more of this? Idk, depends - this whole oneshot just came out of the urge to write lmao. 
> 
> As for Dan’s characterisation in this, I mixed a bit of the movie and the book - he’s described as having a temper in the book, as opposed to the sadder side of him we see in the movie, and we also see how fucking ruthless he is when it comes to dealing with the True Knot members. So, I took the liberty of making him more like the book version here! It was real fun to write

—  
“They’re not special... they’re _starving_.”

A manic rush of deep satisfaction had rushed into him at those words, and he felt a weight lift, from his shoulders, his heart, his _mind_ as the boxes in his head clicked open.

Watching the show unfold from so close did not bother him in the slightest, and nor did the agonising pain in his leg, not anymore - his chest was ablaze with a deep, fiery sense of warped glee, and it was that which kept him levelheaded and strong enough to be able to _enjoy_ watching the bitch die.

Perhaps watching the ghosts of your past literally devour someone’s soul was a little bit fucked up, but, frankly, Dan Torrance thought she had it coming. She deserved it - not only for what she had done to Abra, but for what she had done to all of the children that fate had deemed unlucky.

Her screams rang in his ears, and he knew he wouldn’t be forgetting them anytime soon - he did not want to, he thought with a small twist of his lips.

But then, they stopped, the echo of her voicing raising high in a final shrill, a yell and even a plea, before fading out, forever and for always - Dan’s heart thudded out of beat, just for a second, and he breathed out a breath that he had been holding. She was gone.

(but they aren’t, doc)

He whipped his head up, snapping back to reality - but he could hardly believe it was reality, how could it be? The monsters that haunted him as a child were always hidden from the masses, only destined for his eyes and the eyes of those who shined, and even then, they were gone, locked up tight in the back of his mind.

Of course, until he let them out.

“Hello, Danny.”

He nearly screamed, right there and then, but instead he just grunted and scrambled back, although it was more of a small shift because of _course_ it was, of _course_ he had been injured and he was bleeding out, and it was only natural, only so perfectly cruel, that he would be stuck with his nightmares once again.

A box, the newest one, flicked open, ready to trap its prey once more, but he already knew it was a fruitless effort, because there were too many of them, and this time, they were _real._

They were still starving. They were yearning for more. He knew what he had done, letting them out to murder Rose the fucking hat, was the right and only thing to be done, but he couldn’t help his heart flutter in despair and injustice because it wasn’t fair, was it?

The first of their hands touched him, grabbed his face and that’s when he finally yelled, pain flaring throwing him once again.

No. It wasn’t fair. But here he was, anyway.

They were closing in, all of them, and he winced, feeling fingers skim his temples, and it was right then that he realised he wasn’t going to die. Not yet at least. What they wanted was much worse.

Panic and fear coursed through him, so suddenly, like a thunderclap, and he almost jerked upwards - but he couldn’t move. He was trembling, and so was his mind - he could feel something crawl into it, quickly and without any shame at what it was doing, none at all. It was _eager_ and _evil,_ and Danny Torrance knew that evil much too well.

A final muffled scream tore from his throat, and with a last, fleeting thought, he hoped that Abra had made it out in time.

—

Dan Torrance opened his eyes, and he felt alive.

The ghosts has disappeared, now, but he still felt them, extensions of himself - they lurked through the halls, in search of something that escaped his current train of thought. But that was fine, and his lips smiled, because he _would_ know, and he had plenty of time.

For now, he closed his eyes, and he let his mind wander - the sides clashed and fought and one sometimes screamed, but in the end, they were two, he and it, and they made one being, unstable as it was. The twist of his lips grew wider, sharper, and the axe shone as it laid at his feet, and a small hum of subdued elation came from him as he picked it up.

He, they thought as they walked, wasn’t a fair pronoun to use - they were much more than just _him_ , the idiot boy with the shine, and although it was his body that moved up the stairs, and his feet that took the steps closer, it was the Hotel who had taken charge. It was it that had slid into his head, and corrupted his mind - it was it that made them. And the process had been queerer than usual; it had gone by much more rapidly than it was used to, but it was still satisfied with the outcome. _Very_ satisfied, even, because now it didn’t need to wait for months on end for the chosen victim to do its bidding - it could be done now, at these exact moments, and it _would_ be done.

They shifted the axe in their grip, holding on with two hands now. It would be done.

The train of thought had returned, when they had first picked up the axe - the, small yet present, part of _him_ ,the pure stain, held onto it, refused to share the knowledge, and it was irritating for about two seconds, before they had easily pulled the knowledge from him. They had grinned as they got it. _The little girl_.

Pushing the stain away had been easy, and now it was faded, passionate protests well tucked away at the back of their mind. They let out a hum as they stalked down the first hallway, lower and deeper than what his hum would have sounded like, and they, at a leisurely pace, made their way to the prize. They really weren’t worried about her escaping - she couldn’t.

He shared a connection with her. She was hiding in its halls. They knew exactly where she was. She couldn’t run.

And she wouldn’t either.

Small shadows of elation warped their face, and the remaining blue sparked with something fierce - oh, it had been so _long_ since it had gotten the chance to live like it was always supposed to.  
—


End file.
